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     Volume 4 Issue 40 | April 1, 2005 |


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Slice of Life

Blow Hot
Blow Cold

Richa Jha

Her Story: The Wifey Speaks
"It seems you don't love me anymore," pouted The Hubby.
"You think so? Tell me about it," I replied nonchalantly, his words not even registering because I was busy worrying why the mini-kid had not kicked even once in the last several hours (The Hubby finds it amusing: he says I fret when it does, I worry when it doesn't).

"You don't write about me these days. My friends have noticed it and have started talking about it behind my back."

"Then they aren't your friends. But that shouldn't bother you. We'll find you better friends." I was still distracted. Wake up, mini-kiddy, will you? Show some signs of life, please…

"You don't get it. I want to know. Have I stopped mattering to you?" The Hubby droned on.

Damn! Now that's enough. Can't you see my bulge, I thought. I wanted to scream out loud, jolt him out of his self-pity and tell him that the only thing that matters in my life these days is to have this baby inside out as soon as possible. I want to be able to breathe properly, for heaven's sake. But then men, will they ever understand? Talk of preparing my child for this second baby!

"What happened? Why don't you say something? See what I mean? You don't even want to talk to me these days…" he prodded.

If it was meant to be a test of my patience, I didn't care if I fared badly. "What does you mattering to me have anything to do with my writings? And besides, why don't your friends have the decency to come and ask me directly? Straight from the horse's mouth, eh? That'll save them plenty of speculation."

"Maybe because you come across as this grouchy whining middle-aged woman ever ready to pounce on harmless souls like us." I couldn't believe my ears! I hate to explode like this, but he left me with no option.

"What was that? Come again? Now I think that's enough. You want to know why I don't want to talk to you these days? Because you vex me by forgetting that I may not be in the best of moods at all times, and continue fighting with me and driving me mad." I said it, I spat it out friends, and suddenly felt lighter. I reckon I could have felt even better had I screamed out an even louder cathartic out-pouring, but I had missed my chance.

I knew well that this was bound to precipitate a big show down, but what the heck? Just that very moment, I felt a massive blow to the insides of my belly for the first time in five hours, and I flopped there on the chair easing out and spreading myself relaxed. All was well, and I no longer needed to make that frantic call to my doc. Nothing else mattered now. All I remember is drifting away to sleep amid The Hubby's tirade. And sleeping well.

***

His Story: The Hubby Speaks
I don't understand The Wifey. I'm sure none of us men can ever understand women. What cheers them, what makes them blow their lid off, what cools them. And in the middle of all the cribs of not being able to sleep at all, suddenly starting to snore when I am sorting out important relationship matters with her. Simply outrageous! Just look at what happened this morning. I teased her with some innocuous statement asking why she has made me an outcast in her pieces. Within seconds, she was livid, and was lambasting my friends for sins they have not committed.

She kept saying, "Don't you realise I am tense?" And I kept reassuring her, "Don't worry. My baby is a toughie like me; it's probably sensed your mood and is lying low, scared even to move."

She complained I was behaving like a typical man. Was she trying to be funny? I mean, what has happened to her sense of humour? I have a feeling women come into this world without any, and leave the world bereft of even that little sense they were born with. Humour is totally out of the question. No wonder there are such few stand-up female comedians in the world.

Completely out of the blue, she alleges that I fight with her. I am speechless. Fight? Me? Isn't she the one to start any fight? Don't all women crave confrontations for their personal entertainment? And, as with everything else that I want to point out to her these days, it finally boils down to her given state of pregnancy.

Don't misunderstand me friends, I am not being insensitive here and I am not mocking her, but she has started behaving like a bit of a nag. All I can hear all day is, "when will this be over" or "I am sick of this" and so on. I said I understood her discomfort (to which she howled saying no, you can't), but it's not as if she's the first woman in this state, or that this is the first time it is happening to her. My mother also gave birth to me. I don't remember her behaving this queer.

And what is this? She'll smile and act perfectly normal when she's with others; where are her aches and pains then? But the moment we are together, she blows hot. When I confront her with it, she says she can't be impolite before others. And can you believe she slept mid-way through all our discussions this morning, just in order to spite me?

Which is why I get this feeling she doesn't love me anymore. Maybe, just maybe, that is why she has stopped mentioning me on her pages. Was I wrong in asking her this then? I leave it to you to decide friends…

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